


I'll Stay Forever

by restless (cabinfever)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Post-Apocalypse, of some sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-08
Updated: 2013-02-08
Packaged: 2017-11-28 15:19:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/675892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabinfever/pseuds/restless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years ago, a cataclysm struck the world. Now, the new age finds and remembers the five boys that once ruled the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Stay Forever

They say that the two of them were found together.

They say that the two of them were wrapped in each other’s arms, a joint treasure saved for museums.

It’s said that the new testing methods and facial reconstruction programs will be able to identify them, thousands of years after the disaster that wiped out all of the world but secluded Australia.

They were dug up in some sort of amphitheater or arena in the ruins of an ancient city called New York City, some say. They were on a stage, and hundreds of other bodies crammed the ground and stands. There were three other bodies on stage too, so beautifully preserved that they’re now famous for being nearly perfect.

One’s face is a bit collapsed from the weight of the ash, but his hair, all curls and shining waves, still captivates the archaeologists. In his hand when they found him was an archaic device, a microphone.

Right next to him, clothes still hanging in ragged fragments, is the one that they call the best specimen. His face, skin dried but intact, is all sharp planes and gorgeous structure, a few soft lashes left on his eyelids. He wore the remnants of a striped shirt and a few rags of red fabric cling to his legs.

The last one of the three, the one they call the Hero, was found face down on the stage, arm bringing his microphone to his mouth. In his other hand was an air horn. Archaeologists assume that he was trying to calm the crowd when he was finally stricken down. He still has a few strands of blond hair that shine in the light of the museum, a must-see victim of the collapse.

But the ones that were the interest of the public were the two young men lying on the side of the stage. The first one, trapped under a massive metal beam, wears the remains of a plaid shirt and clings with frozen arms to the other one. The second boy’s hair is jet black, and his arms and chest are still patterned with the faint outlines of tattoos. Their foreheads are together, as if the two of them only wished for each other at their final moments.

The scientists have apparently been working for years on these five enigmatic boys, all in their early twenties and late teens. All of the Australian archives have been scoured by researchers desperate to give a name to every victim. The hundreds of bodies in the arena have also been inspected, they say, and they all share a common theme.

The archaeologists figured it out, they say.

Some say that the boys were legends.

Dr. Trivol of the Australian-European Archaeology Department puts a picture up on the holoscreen, projecting it across Australia. It is a shot of the five mummified victims, the perfectly preserved specimens. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have found the answer!” he proclaims on screen, voice booming across the country. “The five boys from the stage have been identified. They are from an international band called One Direction. They were performing a concert when they were stricken by the disaster.”

Up comes a picture of the curly-haired body, the one with the microphone. Next to it is an old image, showing life in that white skin, a bounce to the curls; a twinkle in bright green eyes. “This is Harry Styles.”

Next is the mummified beauty, the boy with the clothing and the trace of a smirk still on dried lips, like he was laughing at the prospect of death. Next to that picture comes another, showing the living boy with the same outfit, grinning with long-lashed blue eyes. “This is Louis Tomlinson.”

Then comes the Hero, the dead boy who tried to ease everybody’s death and take away the fear. The image that comes up is showing a teenager with a wide grin and pale blue eyes, laughing at a long-forgotten joke. “His name is Niall Horan.”

There is a pause before the next image. “These two boys were found together, so it is only fitting to identify them together.” Up comes the well-known picture, the famous desperate embrace. And then it is replaced with two images, one of a handsome boy with a wide grin and short sandy-brown hair and the other showing a boy of Asian descent, hair styled into a quiff and lips in a slight pout, amber eyes glittering with a secret. “These boys are Liam Payne and Zayn Malik. After careful and extensive research into the artifacts of the era, we have enough evidence to report that they were indeed in a relationship.”

The doctor sighs, reappearing on the screen. “These five boys were stars with their lives cut tragically short. Had they not been stricken by this disaster, they could’ve gone on to be forever remembered, not forgotten with the cataclysm that struck the world. They all shared a story and had a worldwide following. They have been discovered to have two studio albums when they died in Madison Square Garden on December 3, 2012.” Another picture flickers into life on the screen. It’s a paused shot of a tranquil beach, waves frozen in the process of lapping at the sands. “This is the most common search result from the technology of the age. Tonight we will hold a vigil long overdue for One Direction, showing information, pictures, and videos of these five boys, finally recognized after millennia in the ash.”

The microphone switches off and the video starts up, a catchy opening riff projecting across Australia. Then the long dead boy shows up, a grin on his face as he opens his mouth and sings.

“You’re insecure, don’t know what for.”

* * *

Liam clung to Zayn’s hand, sweat beading his forehead and blood dribbling from his parted lips. “Zayn,” he choked out, breath shallow as he lay trapped underneath the section of stage that had fallen on his chest and legs. “Zayn,” he whimpered again, choking on the ash that fell around them like fatal snow.

“I won’t leave you, Liam,” Zayn sobbed, lying down beside Liam and pressing their foreheads together, gasping for air in the crush of ash. “I’ll stay forever.”

Liam choked out one more cough of “Zayn,” his lips white-blue and speckled with red blood.

Zayn carded his fingers gently through Liam’s hair, sobbing as Liam’s dark eyes turned blank and he stopped his labored breathing. “Liam,” he whispered, clutching at him desperately and pressing his lips to the top of the boy’s head, shaking. “I’ve got you,” he choked, feeling his lungs burning with the ash that filled them. “It’s okay, Liam, I’ve got you.”

He heard, through the red haze that knifed through his brain and stabbed his lungs, Niall shouting over the screams, assuring everyone that it’d be okay. “It’ll be okay,” he wheezed to Liam’s still body, unable to cough anymore due to the sheer amount of ash in his lungs. “It’ll be okay,” he repeated, clinging to Liam’s hands like they were his lifeline.

He closed his eyes.


End file.
